Cardboard Castles

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Mephirium had made no attempts to hide his intent to claim the Dark Lord's title.

Word of it was spreading through some of the lesser Sith around the Outer Rim. He had not dared to make a move beyond that; not yet. The Dark Lord would need to be surprised, at least at some level, for the operation to succeed. That did not mean Mephirium could afford to scrounge when it came to allies.

Atrisia was quite out of the way compared to his other destinations, but Mephirium made his way there anyway. The young [member="Lord Mythos"] was charismatic enough and commanded the armies of what was once the great Atrisian Empire. While not entirely necessary to the cause, the would-be Dark Lord was going to give Mythos the chance to choose a side.

He knew of what had gone on between the man and Tionne. He knew of the problems it had caused. Yet still, the burdens his actions had placed upon Cyril Grayson did not weigh upon his shoulder. Mythos was a young man with great potential, nothing more, and Mephirium intended to provide him with the chance to live up to that potential.

His ship came to land upon the landing pad leading to the young Sith Lord's abode. He had made his intentions quite clear upon docking via holomessage.

"Lord Mythos. I am Darth Mephirium. We need to have words concerning the future of the One Sith."

 

[Mythos]

Upon the golden throne of Jar'Kai nothing was ever unseen by Mythos, the armor clad warrior that entered his throne room was unknown to him by name but by deed he knew that this man... was claiming to be Dark Lord of the sith. Any other day Mythos would have him killed on the very spot for even pretending such a claim yet if the deeds he had heard were in any way correct this man was far more powerful than he looked. Mythos gave him an audience regardless and against his better judgment for this day. The dark side of the force whirled around him like a storm at his bidding, the ground rumbled slightly as he stood from his throne in what felt in the force like a moving boulder.

With all the regal and imposing signature of a Sith Lord Lord Mythos let fly the red cape behind him showing the red blazing symbol of the one sith and the golden armor that adorned his body. His eyes locked upon the man below his throne and every step he took boomed in the force like the echo of a breaking waterfall. "I am the future..."
Mythos spoke, his lips not moving and his face unflinching at the presence of the would-be dark lord below him and with a step he glided down from the throne using telekinesis to meet the sith below him eye to eye. His boots smacked down with a loud thump, then brought his eyes to gaze upon his guest...

"You have courage to come before me knowing my status..." He spoke in ancient sith, the language of the dark lords regardless of whether or not he could understand him. "It is because of this I grant you audience... speak"
[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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He had learned from his master's mistakes that blatant shows of power were just that: shows. So long as he did not express his capabilities, he had the advantage.

Mephirium stood rigid as Mythos lowered him down the steps, his lips pressed into a thin line. Had he been an acolyte, he might have been impressed by the display, perhaps have fallen to his knees in reverence. As he was, the elder Sith Lord was disaffected.

Still, there was something to be said for Mythos' ability to, at the very least, create such a performance. The boy's deeds had not fallen upon deaf ears either. He could, if pressed, prove to be a bit of a challenge. Mephirium met him eye-for-eye, his lips pulling back in a thin smile that could have been a snarl.

"I have, young Mythos." Mephirium replied in plain basic. He understood the old tongue quite well, even going by the moniker of Chirikyât in the past. Still, having grown up among the slave yards on Gratos, he vastly preferred basic. "I'm sure you've heard of my recent actions." He was not gloating. Any Sith with a bit of clout had heard of his attempts to pull others to his side by now.

Of course, the majority of those attempts had been successes.

"I'm sure you can guess as to why I've come here." He allowed a bit of power to enter his words. They came from his lips, but the force carried them from every direction, the air feeling almost electric for but a moment.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

"I can." He stated simply still speaking in ancient sith and returning his smile and his gaze with unflinching confidence and pride that was blatant and unavoidable. He had indeed heard of the tales of the Sith Lord before him, he was interested to say the least yet Mythos respected only one thing... Power. He who is strongest should rule, Mythos would see that basic Sith law remain intact. Some sith would consider the title "Young" to be some sort of insult or a demeanor to rank of precedence yet Mythos only saw it as a confirmation that his greatness was even more glorious as not even age stood in the way to power.

Mythos sat cross legged before him, his power in telekinesis keeping him afloat and the strength of the axe of Adas behind his back making the display of power meaningless in effort. "You want my support to overthrow his majesty, the emperor of the One Sith" The words leaving his lips as a faint whisper before his eyebrow raised in an inquisitorial gesture.

He paused to let the statement sink in, this was no simple intervention or routine skirmish, this was an act of treason that if met by failure resulted in death... Mythos enjoyed liked his position upon the golden throne almost as much as he enjoyed the ecstasy of battle and honorable combat. It would take quite an offering to secure his support... yet it was not impossible.
"Why should i help you? Why not defend He who made me King?"
[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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Mephirium simply shook his head.

There were some Sith who he had been careful around. [member="Darth Adekos"] was one of them. Such Sith had the sense to bring in more warriors to assure a victory if needed. While Mythos was powerful and quite proud of that fact, he would not think to do so. If he felt insulted, he would draw his sword before thinking to call a guard, or so Mephirium assumed.

Cyril Grayson spoke his mind.

"The Dark Lord is going to die. I will throw his head at your feet in due time, if you need proof." Mephirium half-spoke, half-growled. He had grown rather tired of playing nice with people. Mythos was a wolf. You could not talk down a wolf. "I do not want your help. I am offering you my mercy, Mythos. My forces are massive. My command over the force is all-encompassing. Join us, and become something more. I reward the loyal."

A pause.

"Join me, or meet your end along with your great emperor. I will bring change. He only wishes that you continue to worship him, to be complacent, to be everything that is not a Sith."

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

Mythos listened intently and scoffed at the arrogance of his words, or so Mythos presumed them to be. He placed his hand under his chin while he pondered his retort for a long time. He did not say a word, simply stood from his cross legged stance and tilted his head. "All-encompassing you say?" He began, a smile crossing his lips in the eagerness to test the very statement. Mythos took a bow of reverence before the Sith Lord and when he rose to look into his eyes the yellow blaze of power shined upon his eyes. "Let us decide this the say Sith... would decide it shall we?"

The cape flew from his body and with a repulse in the darkside of the force his golden armor shattered leaving his bare chest riddled with scars and only his leather war-leggings. His guest would immediately sense the might of the three hundred Jar'Kai surround them both creating a massive ring around the throne room to act as their battle ground. The axe of Adas flew into his hands and the rudis of the dark lord fell into his other, all of his armaments adorned his belt and back giving Lord Mythos the appearance of an ancient battlemaster. The dark side of the force whirled around in a disturbing and wicked way.

"If I defeat you, you serve me... you will lead your armies and place Me as the Emperor, defeat me in combat and you will have my support and my armies..." Mythos brandished his blades before the Sith Lord, an open gesture of challenge while taking the stance of Juyo. "I only serve those who are stronger than me... if you cannot defeat me, then you are unworthy of my loyalty..."


[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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This was what Mephirium had truly wanted.

He had negotiated with words far too much in the past few days. The call of battle sung in his heart, thrummed in his blood, and flooded his hearing. Mythos wanted a contest of strength. Darth Mephirium would provide.

He imitated the younger man, stripping out his robes save for the long tan pants. He was a man of battle, and had once been a man of slavery. A number of morbid burns marked his warped flesh. Ritualistic scarring ling the insides of his arms, as if long knives had been driven through the skin by a fingers breath from the shoulder to his elbow. Across the top of his chest read the words 'Hand of His Lord' in the guttural Graug tongue branded into his skin decades ago.

"I accept your challenge." A bit of a growl had found its way into his voice, though Mephirium did not allow himself to devolve into primal violence. His was a passion for battle contained, a flame kept stoked for the time when it would fly forth and scorch the planet asunder.

He carried to lightsabers. One of his own making, short and slender, hissed as it came to life, casting him in a faint blue glow. The other was far longer and of a brutish design. When its blade was birthed into the world, it absorbed all the light around it. The light of a dying black hole shone in the weapon's make, so obsidian that it stole the color from the world around it. Darth Vulcanus' lightsaber thrummed with power.

"I will allow you to make the first move." Mepihirum, master of Jar'kai and purveyor of Vapaad's perfected use with the Dark Side, rumbled.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

"You might regret that"

His legs burst with the force, the tedious meditation and telekinetic movements he had done up to this point had warmed up the use of the force in combat so Mythos was prepared to face his opponent in combat. The scars upon his body mimicked his own and Mythos knew from the very second he gazed upon him that he too was a man of battle. Mythos dived head first into the blade of his opponent, weapons wide and extended like wings on a warbringer to strike once and twice to his shoulders with vertical chops then upon landing twist his body and bend his knees extending his weapons wide to slice at everything around him.

Every blow Mythos delivered brought behind it incredible strength that was uncanny for a man his size and moving at that speed because both weapons he wielded, individually, were wells of dark side power that fed into him making him stronger that he naturally was. Inside his belt was the Valthris crystal, an artifact of incredible power that allowed his force sense and battle precognition to work at levels that he never before had experienced. This battle would prove to be a legendary encounter for the ages...

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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Juyo was a hot mess. It worked well enough in the right hands, but Mephirium had come to learn how to deal with it. His twin blades met Mythos' with both vertical strikes. The younger man held great power behind his blows; Darth Mephirium matched it. His cybernetic arm whirred as it repelled his blade, the one crafted of flesh and blood strained to do the same.

When the young man twisted about, Mephirium leaped a foot into the air. Mythos' weapons carved through the open air where his legs had just been a moment earlier. Mephirium wasted no time in twisting the obsidian blade downward, angling down toward Mythos' exposed back. He intended to impale the young Sith Lord through the spine. A morbid injury if he managed, though Mephirium was confident he could preserve the young man's life it it did indeed land.

Meanwhile, the cyan blade was brought close to his chest. His feet hit the floor, and he glanced down toward his opponent, curious to see if he had managed to end their contest so quickly.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

Juyo demanded only one thing to function properly, enjoyment of combat and Mythos relished in combat as much as he relished in making love. He was not surprised that his opponent manged to counter or dodge his attacks as gradually after each strike his speed would gain momentum. When the dive of his opponent came Mythos could not help but to laugh out loud at the skill of his opponent. "An opponent with merit and skill!"

Bringing up the axe of Adas to meet the plasma as he brought himself up Mythos felt the clash of plasma and alchemized steel while he turned the axe to the side hooking the blade to the side with the edge of the axe. This was one of the many advantages of having an actual ax as a weapon against lightsabers, it allowed him the push and pull of momentum when weapons intertwined. The rudis was next as it inverted its grip in his wrist with lightning speed while Mythos spun his body to disarm his opponent with the axe and come around with the rudis to strike his opponents neck and execute a sharp kick to the midsection that would knock the wind out of a gen'dai.

The routine would continue with various rapid strikes in succession enhanced by the power of the darkside behind his limbs, this battle would write the history of the One Sith ... forever.

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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Mephirium had come into conflict with a number of Sith Lords that utilized material weapons rather than those powered by energy. This was not the first time someone had tried this trick with the axe. No, really, this had happened four times in an invasion once. It was nuts! When Mythos hooked the blade on his axe, Mephirium did the sensible thing.

He turned it off.

Mythos spun. The blade came back to life unmoved. Rather than wait for Mythos' spin to finish, Mephirium turned his newly-freed lightsaber toward his opponent's rather close chest. The other did the same. The he held his arms outer.

The Rudies, however, would miss its mark by a bare inch. It drove deep into his flesh, slicing through skin, muscle, and partly through bone. The only problem was that it hadn't it his neck, but his shoulder. Mephirium cursed in outrage, the pain almost making him drop to his knees in anguish, but he did not relent. He was rather confident that his subtle use of the lightsaber on/off switch might have won him the day.

Still, that did little to help his bleeding, gore-spattered arm. Shab.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

The flash of movements was so quick that to the untrained eye of those who would behold it would look like nothing more than flashing steel and shining movements. Mythos could feel the ripple of agony and pain through the force as his sword dig into his opponents arm in perfect synchronization of his opponents lightsabers entering his chest. Mythos eyes popped open as the wave of heat and pain rushed through his body... I this the end?...

"No!" Mythos roared, the pain of two blades inside his body making the necessity of violence imminent.... he had to think quickly. One last ditch attempt at victory. With the hand that held the axe of adas that now dropped to the floor in a loud clang of steel he gathered what remained of the force before his body decided to shut down and smacked his opponents chest with his palm. From below his wrist, the hidden blade of the assassins popped out to skewer his heart just before Mythos fell back clutching his chest...

Death.... crept in like a waning shadow of inevitable doom... Was this how it all ended? Honorable combat? Mythos would have approved of this death... But not today... "Damien... i remember..." He spoke through whispers, blood coming from his mouth due to the internal injuries as he clutched his chest. He focused on the only one thing that could save him... [member="Darth Pikiran"] or rather his teachings. When Mythos fought Damien even as a sparring match his teacher displayed mastery of swordsmanship at a level that Mythos could only dream of and thus when finished Mythos suffered an injury quite like the one he had right now... deadly. Had Damien not patched his savage injuries his body would now wet the sand of Korriban like a broken husk...

Damien had put his hands around the injury and replaced the flesh with darkness, a matter of shadow that stopped the bleeding and made Mythos whole and new again prepared for yet another round in training... Lord Mythos had never had the need of using that ability until now. With hand gestures and ancient words that dated back eons, Lord Mythos conjured the darkmagick of Korriban for the first time and from his bloodied fingertips rushed tendrils of black matter that oozed into the holes in his chest creating a replica of the tissue and organs that had been destroyed with a fragile yet perfect replacement. We would need immediate medical treatment after the fight, the dark matter could be eliminated with something as simple as a force repulse that would blow it away like wind on dried leaves.... but for now.

Mythos rose from the ground, his eyes and smile digging upon his foe like an enraged predator prepared to destroy and annihilate absolutely anything that stood in his way. The fear of his soldiers was manifested when he fell and now their shock and cries of worship drowned out the silence as to their shock... Mythos stood tall once again.
"I...am Lord Mythos... Sith Magnus.. and i will not fall that easy... prepare yourself Mephirum, I am the strongest warrior you have ever faced"

Now it was Mythos who gestured to him, inviting the first strike in this incredible round two.

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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The assassins blade dug deep into Mephirium's exposed flesh. It found its home against his collar bone. The Sith Lord had twisted somewhat when the blade came down, causing it to pierce his rib-cage and a lung within. The pain was red hot and drew him from the battle, if only for a moment. The lung itself was utterly ruined, and blood began to pour into the second. The Sith Lord parted his lips to draw in breath; naught but a ghastly gurgling noise came from it.

Darth Mephirium was drowning in his own blood.

Outrage overcame him. Now? As he was so close? No, no, there was a solution. Mephirium called upon the dark powers that had been sworn to him at his crowning. So long as he retained his focus, the force would provide him with that which his lungs could not. It was a temporary solution to his problem, but so long as he could maintain it, his blood would continue to flow.

Besides, he had won.

And yet, he had not.

His eyes narrowed as he watched Mythos call upon the powers of the arcane. The Sith Lord's lips pulled back in a snarl. He could not speak, as blood swelled within his lungs, but he could offer Mythos the most baleful stare he could muster.

And then Mythos made a mistake. He let Mephirium make the first move.

[member="Soeht"] had given Mephirium his gift. The wounded Sith Lord let that gift take hold now. His hands stretched forth. Bundles of crimson sparked between his fingertips and flew forward. It began as a simple vein of red lightning. Then it became a storm of all encompassing destruction, aided by Mephirium's intimate connection with the Dark Side.

The reality of his situation only spurred him forward. The closer he drew to drowning in his own blood, more the lightning poured.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

The gathering of the force inside his opponent was noticeable yet the pride and arrogance of Mythos did not allow him to break the gathering of the force, Mythos would see to it that his opponent unleashed his full power as such was the only way that Mythos could take pride in his victory or console in his defeat. With his right hand extended forward the rudis of the dark lord faced his opponent, the power of the darkside of the force amplified by the weapon and the Valthris on his belt. His other hand flashed the dark core lightsaber that was made of the most precious of metals, songsteel, Pride was its name and it had not yet seen defeat. Jar'Kai was the stance he took this time,allowing for a more well placed defense unlike Juyo that offered absolutely no defensive techniques other than attacking into an attack.

One burst of red lightning blasted from his opponent and bet the edge of his rudis, the vein of red lightning started small and caused Mythos to show his most important weakness.... Overconfidence."Is this all you can do!? You expect to rule wi-" If he had focused and kept his mouth shut while preparing a defense he would have been much more prepared for what came next, a storm of red lightning consumed the room.

Mythos managed to cross his lightsabers before him in an "X" yet even with his mastery of the force and lightsabers the storm was so powerful it broke through his defenses riddling his body with various blasts of the red lightning that burned skin and tissue to the muscle and even some to the bone. He feel down to one knee yet he could not bring himself to put his weapons down, he was going to fight this to the very end. His back and torso was undergoing massive punishment and all Mythos could do was scream in pain, yet it was that very pain that urged him to keep fighting. Through the pain he started to set up some defenses in the force, a barrier of telekinetic energy yet it was not enough to stop the storm, just to mitigate some of its damage. "I... will... not..fall!!" He pushed back at the cost of his own body yet the bent knee... started to rise.

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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Mythos was a powerful young man. Mephirium would not allow him to underestimate the lord of Atrisia, and even as he stood against the onslaught of crimson lightning, the usurper weighed his options. Any further combat would likely severely wound the man - perhaps kill him. Furthermore, Mephirium had no desire to walk away from this battle with any more wounds than he already had. There was no point in making a bigger mess out of things.

When Mythos bellowed his defiance, Mephirium withheld the storm. One moment their arena was naught but a sea of destruction, the next it was a realm of uncomfortable calm. The sharp smell of burning ozone and the sickly sweet scent of burning flesh hung within the air. Mephirium breathed it in for a moment, acknowledged what he had done, and stood rigid.

A hand rose up to his chest. His focus shifted to the ruptured lung. Calling upon his mastery of molecular manipulation, the Sith Lord delved deep into the torn tissue, down to the very cells that made it up. The dead were crushed into nothingness, and those that lived were encouraged to multiply. The sensation was anything but pleasant - the rapid regrowth of one's organs rarely was. Within moment, the tear in the lung was repaired, though it would not last. It was the equivalent to a field dressing. Mephirium would need the organ replaced.

Then, he focused on the blood filling his lungs. With a violent upheaval, he forced it upward. The resulting display was quite unpleasant as Darth Mephirium vomited up a torrent of blood on the polished floors.

The servants would be working for their credits tonight.

"You have no need to fall," Mephirium sputtered through the acid taste on his tongue, "You need only serve. I've shown you my strength Mythos. It would be unwise for us to kill one another."

He rose up to his full height, lightsabers raised to defend himself if need be, though he had no intention of attacking. "My fleet is large. Every day men and women pledge themselves to my service. Coruscant will be in my hands soon enough, and from there, I will restore our once-great Empire. You have shown me your worth, Lord Mythos."

He drew in a deep breath. The motion was agonizing, but he needed to clear his head.

"The Dark Lord would shower you with gifts while your people worship him like a god. My rivals will see you as nothing more than a tool. I have come here, fought by your customs, and I ask you to stand at my side as one of my Lieutenants. Atrisia will benefit from such - you will benefit from such." He held the Lord of Atrisia' stare. "Make the wise choice."

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

When the storm subsided, only two images stood in the throne hall and the thrum of the dark side of the force consumed all that sorrounded them in the intangible, unassailable fabric of the force. Mythos stood back, smoke pouring from his muscles like steam from the heat ad above all else the desire for battle continued.... yet Mephirium spoke the truth and it would indeed be unwise to further escalate conflict... his words mirrored the exact same words spoken by the blue prophet Javik... so long ago. The rudis returned to its sheath and so did the axe return to his hand with the power of telekinesis.

Mythos nodded, stood back and then paced to his opponent with no weapons at his side of in his arms. "Well fought" He said between gasps and hard breaths. It had been a while since he had been pushed to such limits and forced to fight to the very extent of his capabilities... more importantly it had been a while since he saw the face of death that close. With one final exhale his heart started to return to its normal rhythm slowly as the sweat from his body started to wash him like a shower.

The injuries he suffered were in their entirety deadly and uncomfortable to have yet Mythos was feeling an odd sense of likeness in his adversary... ambition, greed and strangely enough the care for those who served under him. This above all else, brought Mythos to thought before he answered. "You have my ax... The atrisian Legions are yours to command... i have pressing matters to attend to and perhaps i will not join the battle... or perhaps i will..." Mythos shrugged and gave him a smile and a nod.

His servants, those who lived anyway, brought to him a robe but Mythos waved his hand denying it. Instead, he took from the walls one of the flag of the One Sith and wrapped it around his body to escape the cold breeze that beat upon his bare skin covered in cool sweat and blood. Mythos now looked to Mephirium as the literal image of patriotism and loyalty. "My soldiers have centuries under their belts of battle experience... i would advise you to use them as a last resort..."

[member="Darth Mephirium"]